


that one missing piece

by zimtlein



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Character Study, Confused Alya Césaire, Endgame Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Identity Reveal, POV Alya Césaire, POV Outsider, Relationship Study, trying to respectfully understand adrigami and lukanette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimtlein/pseuds/zimtlein
Summary: What worries Alya the most: with Marinette and Adrien, things never fall into place easily.Until they suddenly do.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 63
Kudos: 363





	that one missing piece

It all starts with her kind-hearted, cute friend. It all starts with the way she looks at Adrien Agreste. As if he hung the moon and the stars in the sky. It all starts with the slight suspicion that this is not going to end well. But if Alya knows one thing, then it’s a little troubling fact about being there for best friends.

Give a girl in love advice she doesn’t want to hear, and she won’t hear it at all.

So Alya is a good friend. When Marinette stares at him too hard, Alya tells her to go talk to him. Just so she will sooner realize that there is no interest in Adrien’s voice. When Marinette doesn’t dare step closer to him, Alya gives her little nudges. Just so she will sooner realize that Adrien’s heart doesn’t jump the same way hers does when they touch. When Marinette is too afraid to give him a gift, Alya convinces her to do so nonetheless. Just so she will sooner realize he doesn’t appreciate it the way Marinette wishes he did.

And Alya invites Adrien to spend the afternoon with them. Just so Marinette will sooner realize that the excitement in his eyes isn’t reserved for her alone.

“Oh my god, Alya,” Marinette says as they approach André’s ice cream stand, “you did see his new ad, right? I can’t even look at him without my brain melting! He looks so – ugh – so gorgeous!”

“And I’m sure you didn’t watch it again for the whole day,” teases Alya.

“So not!” Pouting, Marinette accepts the ice cream handed to her, giving André a thankful smile. “I only watched it once. Okay, thrice. Okay, maybe seven or eight times, but only because the background was very interesting!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Stop grinning like that. I mean it!”

Alya giggles. “Sure.”

She watches as Marinette sits down next to Adrien, her ice cream almost slipping from her fingers as she visibly tries to hold onto her sanity. With a slightly confused smile, Adrien rescues her cone, his fingers closing around hers in the process. It’s a kind of moment that would make one’s heart drop. Hell, it would make Alya’s heart drop, even if she has no interest in sunshine boy whatsoever. And while Marinette’s cheeks turn beet-red, Adrien’s smile is unwavering as he pats her hand. Like a good friend would.

Really, it’s kind of heartbreaking.

“Maybe we should just tell him,” Nino says next to her, his voice small enough that only she can hear it. “Y’know, get it over with?”

Alya makes a face. “That’s not how relationships work, Nino.”

“Why? Look at ’em. He has no clue, and she’d never be able to tell him.”

“I know,” Alya whispers, feeling concern rise in her chest. Just like it always does. “But this is not our place to do something they aren’t ready to do themselves, you know?”

“Boy,” sighs Nino. “Am I glad that things don’t have to be complicated, eh?”

At that, she smiles at him, shoulder leaned against his as she pecks his cheek. He feels like warmth, like coming home after a cold autumn day. “True. Just a bit of honesty, and there you go, you find the perfect boyfriend in no time.”

And all they can do is watch Marinette and Adrien’s awkward interactions from a safe distance, cringing multiple times at their attempts at communication. Or mostly, Marinette’s attempts, tongue tripping over itself so often Alya would just like to grab this girl’s shoulders and give her a good shake.

Heartbreaking, yes, and kind of frustrating, too.

Enjoying the afternoon sun, Alya almost winces when Marinette slides closer to her, cheeks still red as she ushers Nino away. “Private girlfriend talk,” she explains with blue eyes widened.

Nino shrugs. “Sure thing. Girl talk? I’m out.”

Alya automatically takes a peek at Adrien. Grinning at something Nino says as he sits down next to his best friend, the Seine underneath them gurgling away at its own pace. The evening sun paints long shadows over Marinette’s cheeks as she leans closer, voice a sharp whisper.

“Help. I’m dying over there! I can’t stop thinking about – you didn’t see the ad, right – but the way his eyes are glowing – oh my god, Alya, it’s too much!”

She smiles weakly. That’s nice, and cute, but not enough. “Why don’t you just stop thinking about the ad and talk to him?”

“Talk,” Marinette drawls. “Talk about what?”

“I don’t know. Your favorite video game. Your favorite food. Something. Let him know what an awesome girl you are.”

Marinette blushes. “You’re awesome too,” she mutters as she pokes Alya’s shoulder.

See, if he knew that side of Marinette? Easy to fall for her. Still, Alya internally sighs as she watches Marinette slide closer to Adrien once again. From her position, she can hear their conversation clearly.

“So! I thought, uh, game! Favorite! What is yours?”

Adrien blinks at her, the same good-natured smile as always staying on his lips. “My favorite game? Like, board game?”

“Uh, no idea, Alya didn’t specify – I mean, I don’t care! I mean, it doesn’t matter! I mean, I want to know, but whatever! Board, or, or video game, or –”

“Okay?”

“Or, you know what?” Marinette wildly flails her hands around in front of her, a high-pitched laugh leaving her lips. “Forget it! Food! Do you like food? Well, of course you like food, everyone does, we would die if we didn’t have food. Uh, not that I think about that often. About food, sure, but about dying without food? No, that’s just dumb! I mean, not dumb, it’s very much a possibility …”

Adrien nods, a look of complete confusion covering his face. Behind him, Nino sends Alya a helpless look.

Alya smacks her forehead.

Girls in love are deaf to the truth. So she doesn’t even try. Instead she watches their weird conversation. She watches as Adrien keeps nodding, brows furrowed and gears clearly rattling. She watches as he pulls out his phone, trying countless times to politely excuse himself from Marinette’s stammering. He only manages to do so at attempt five when Marinette realizes she is holding him up from something important. Her apologies are just as scattered and messy as every other sentence she likes to throw right in Adrien’s face, and while he is trying to calm her down with soothing gestures, she only stumbles on more clumsily than before.

All in all, it’s a disaster.

“It’s a disaster!” Marinette accurately notes when they are alone again, Adrien having been picked up by his bodyguard and Nino having let them have their alone time. It’s getting later, the evening shimmering in oranges as the sun keeps setting. “Why can’t I just be normal around him? Why do I have to be like – _this_?”

Because it’s easy to keep dreams distant, Alya thinks. “Because you’re just a helpless girl in love,” she says instead.

Marinette groans, burying her face in her hands. “Do you think I will ever make any progress at all?”

Alya pats her back. “I’m sure you will.”

Progress, she thinks. Progress can be a lot – and if progress is only realization, it might be enough. But until then, there’s nothing to do than giving a girl, deaf to the truth, as many clues as she can.

Because if it was meant to be, it would fall into place easily.

There’s one thing Alya discovers about Adrien. When he is in love, he is in love with his very being, and he is not afraid to show it.

It might be what is most painful about it. Not for her, but on Marinette’s behalf.

Because on that one afternoon they wanted to spend together, just the four of them, Adrien brings his girlfriend along. From the corners of her eyes, Alya sees Marinette’s face fall. Only a moment, a long and pressing moment, before she seems to catch herself again.

“I hope it’s okay if Kagami joins us?” Adrien smiles, sheepishly, but somehow proudly, one hand on Kagami’s back.

“If I am intruding –”

“You so aren’t!” Marinette quickly says, giving Kagami a bright smile. “Please, we’d love to have you here!”

A terrible liar, Alya thinks to herself.

The couple goes ahead. It’s almost uncomfortable to watch them. With Adrien’s lingering touches, and with the way his eyes glimmer in adoration when looking at her. Simple. Two persons falling for each other. There’s nothing more to it. But next to Alya, Marinette watches, her cheeks pale, her hands formed to fists. Tears in her eyes. It’s so easy to think that touches should be reserved for yourself and no one else when reality shows you something so vastly different. It’s easy to turn away when dreams are shattered.

It hurts. It really does.

Alya leans closer, voice low and quiet. “If looks could kill …”

“Huh?” Marinette turns her head a bit. “I’m happy for them.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am. Look. Adrien seems …”

“He is glowing.”

“Yeah.” Marinette bites her lip. “Yeah.”

There’s one thing Alya can keep doing. And that is to watch. When she hands Kagami her drink – dark hot chocolate, no additional sugar – Kagami nods in appreciation. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” No warmth in her voice, no warmth in Kagami’s either. For a moment, Alya really wonders what he sees in her. Even if it isn’t her place to judge. Their eyes drift away from each other. That is, until Adrien joins Kagami’s side.

Something changes the moment Adrien is next to her. Something brightens, clears like fog after a somber morning. Because when he smiles at her, radiantly and full of pride, she seems to break into little glowing pieces. Coldness vanishing, colors dancing through otherwise blank eyes. He whispers something to her, only reserved for her ears alone, and the smile growing on her lips drenches her face in soft warmth. Adrien’s hand on her waist, looking at her –

Looking at her as if she hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

Love should make you a better person, Alya thinks. She keeps thinking so as she glances at Marinette, her eyes decidedly turned away from the couple. She keeps thinking so as Adrien reacts to something Nino said, showing a toothy grin. She keeps thinking so as Kagami steals glances at Adrien, cheeks dusted in a shimmer of pink.

Love should make you a better person. Sometimes it doesn’t.

“Oh, would you look at that, so late already!” Alya calls out, looking at her wristwatch. “We should really get going, shouldn’t we, Marinette?”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because we have things to do. You know, that big thing?”

“That – what?”

“Exactly! So, my bestie and I will take our leave. You guys have fun, all right?”

“Sure.” Adrien blinks at her in confusion, hand still around his girlfriend’s waist. “Good luck with your big thing.”

Alya smiles. It hurts.

Marinette isn’t dumb. She never was. So Alya is already expecting the words as they are on the way, the others far behind them. “You didn’t have to save me, you know.”

“I know I didn’t have to.”

“I will get used to it.”

She doesn’t have a choice, really. But the truth is a bit too painful, a bit too harsh, and Alya settles for a shrug. “Yeah. But doesn’t mean you have to get used to it right away.”

Marinette shrugs too. It’s warm outside, the sun shining down on them. Paris’s noise fades to nothingness. “Do you think they fit well together?”

Alya won’t say it. She won’t say that Adrien’s eyes are glowing with adoration. She won’t say that Kagami seems to melt in his warmth. She won’t say that he is a boy who gives his everything for love, and that his choice is something they don’t have to understand. So her lips curl into a smile, one that makes her stomach churn, and she doesn’t meet Marinette’s eyes as she replies.

“Absolutely not.”

People around them stay silent in the face of her words, and Marinette does, too. So Alya tries to save it, save this moment for all it’s worth.

“Did you even look at her? Is she made of stone or something? Didn’t even crack a smile when we told her about the Kim incident.”

They arrive in front of Marinette’s home. There is no choice but to look at her. Watery eyes, a smile that quivers at the edges.

“Kagami is a friend of mine, you know.”

Alya stays quiet for a long time.

“And I really appreciate her. As a friend.”

Alya keeps staying quiet.

“So I’m really happy for them.”

“Me too,” Alya finally manages.

Marinette’s smile doesn’t waver. Not one bit. She steps inside.

They put on a movie. Something, anything to escape from the feeling of a heart breaking. From the beginning, Alya saw it coming, tiny little steps towards the cliff, but she never did anything to stop it either. Because that’s just how it is. Girls in love are blind, and girls in love would rather jump than face the music back home.

Alya likes to think of herself as smarter than that, but then again, maybe all she had was luck.

During the movie, she goes through her phone. Adrien posted a photo of Kagami and him. Several ones, in fact. When she takes a look at his profile, it is covered with photos of his girlfriend and him. Kagami smiles so seldomly, but in Adrien’s presence, she constantly does. Every single photo. Every single time. Every single smile heartfelt and genuine. Every single look full of adoration.

He looks happy.

So goddamn happy.

Why the hell does he have to look that happy?

The sudden urge to toss her phone to the side arises in Alya. When she risks a glance at Marinette, she is still staring at the TV screen, chin resting on her bent knees. Alya wants to ask, but then again, she really doesn’t. Maybe it would have needed more time, or maybe it would have never been a fit after all.

With Adrien and Kagami, it all fell into place so easily.

Girls in love are blind to the truth. Maybe Alya wants to be blind to it, too. Just for once.

It’s surprising. That might be a good word for it – surprising.

It needed some time until Alya had assessed him for good. But Luka is a good guy, she came to realize. He’s patient, not once looking annoyed when Marinette stumbles over her own feet or trips over her tongue or accidentally knocks something off balance. He simply helps her up, or catches her before she falls.

He simply smiles at her. And that’s enough.

It’s unfamiliar, watching Marinette like this. Her nervous energy retreating, leaving glowing cheeks and a smile that stretches over her whole face. It’s unfamiliar how she doesn’t seem to notice that she is leaning towards Luka. It’s unfamiliar that she doesn’t shy away from the way Luka carefully puts a hand on her back, drawing tiny circles over her jacket.

It’s good, Alya thinks. It’s just like it’s meant to be.

“I’ve always wanted to go on a triple date! This is so great. So exciting.” She claps her hands as she waits for their drinks and pies to be served. It’s a bit cold outside, and she leans into Nino as he wraps an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder.

“Triple date,” Adrien repeats as if the syllables feel foreign on his tongue. “That’s what this is?”

“I think,” Kagami offers, “she means the fact that we are, well, three couples.” Even after all that time, the words still seem to make her cheek glow. Even more so when Adrien gives her a soft smile, pressing a kiss against her temple. Clearing her throat, she moves away a bit, but the obvious affection in her eyes can’t be smothered.

Alya glances at Marinette. But she is occupied with her own object of affection, smiling at something Luka whispers into her ear. In response, she snuggles into her scarf, squeezing the hand Luka is resting on the table. The shimmer in Luka’s eyes is one that even makes Alya’s heart do a jump. It’s sweet, somehow shy, and Alya can’t stop watching.

She can’t stop watching.

Nothing about this is off. It’s just like it should be. The girl in love found what it really means to love. And with the way Luka looks at her, there’s nothing to be concerned about.

“I heard you’re preparing for a test next week,” Luka says, looking up at the others.

Nino groans loudly. “Dude, don’t remind me! Ms. Mendeleiev is a nightmare.”

“I know,” Luka says. “Had her too for two years. Always hated physics, and never got over it. Forever traumatizing.”

“You hate physics?” Adrien asks. “I think it’s fun.”

“Bro, yeah, but you’re kind of weird, after all.”

“He’s not weird,” Kagami chimes in. “He’s smart.”

With an amused hum, Adrien rubs her shoulder. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

Just a slight shimmer of affection in her eyes, Kagami returns his look. “That’s what girlfriends are here for. I read on the internet, at least.”

Alya gives a gag. “Please get a room, you two.”

“Aw, Alya, come on!” The smile on Marinette’s lips seems genuine. So genuine that Alya almost feels taken aback. “I think it’s cute. They are the perfect couple.” Her eyes linger on Adrien as she says it, but no matter how hard Alya looks for it, there’s no sadness in there, no regret.

Progress, she thinks. This is progress, isn’t it?

“Thank you, Marinette.” Giving Kagami another smile, Adrien’s expression breaks into warmth. “I also think I found the perfect girl.”

“Your flattery is a bit embarrassing,” Kagami mumbles, but doesn’t look away from him, even as her cheeks turn even redder than before. In return, Adrien only laughs.

It’s cute. It’s so breathtakingly, disgustingly cute.

Adrien and Kagami are the first ones who leave, their parents demanding their whereabouts. In silent understanding, they both roll their eyes at each other before saying their goodbyes, strolling away hand in hand. Marinette looks after them before having her attention diverted by something Luka says. When she looks at him, everything seems to become calm and quiet. Secure and safe.

It just fits, Alya thinks. It just fits, she convinces herself.

When they leave the café, Nino and Alya stay back a bit. She is holding his hand, but her eyes are on the couple in front of her, and she keeps watching as she asks Nino, “Do you think make for a good couple?”

“Hell yeah, they do,” Nino answers instantly. “He adores her, doesn’t he?”

“Does he?”

“Yeah. Just look at them.” Nino leans closer to her. “You havin’ doubts?”

“About them? I don’t know.”

“Well, what do your famous journalist instincts say?”

It does sound a bit teasing, and in return, she jabs her finger against his stomach. “They say you should watch your mouth, oh cute boyfriend of mine.”

“As long as you keep calling me cute, all is well.”

“Whatever, dork.” She turns back to the couple before them. There’s quite some distance between them, and they seem lost in their own little world as they keep talking. So lost that they seem to forget they aren’t quite on their own.

Because Luka suddenly comes to a stop, arms wrapping around Marinette’s waist, and surprise is written all over her face when he leans down, lips meeting hers. Alya comes to a sudden halt on instinct, unable to look away for a moment. From the way Marinette blushes, hands tentatively reaching for Luka’s face. From the way his lips curl into a smile before kissing her again, this time slowly and gently.

Alya suddenly feels very intrusive, her cheeks burning up. “Oh. Surprising.”

“Surprising,” Nino coughs. “Should we, maybe …?”

“I think we should.”

So they quickly make a getaway, disappearing into the direction they came from. When Alya looks over her shoulder several times, she can see Marinette wrapping her arms around Luka’s neck, their kisses sweet and chaste, the smile on her lips lighting up her whole face.

It’s cute. It really is so disgustingly cute.

So of course Alya can’t help but turn up at Marinette’s place in the evening, bouncing on the spot when she opens the door. “Okay. Spill. Spill. Spill. Spill, girl, was it your first kiss, if no, why didn’t I know nothing, huh, spill, come on, spill already!”

“Alya!” Cheeks red as a tomato, Marinette shows a placating gesture. “Okay – it – it wasn’t exactly our first kiss, uh …”

She grabs Marinette’s shoulders, hard. “I want to know everything. And by everything, I mean every tiniest detail ever.”

So Marinette spills. As they make themselves comfortable on her chaise, she tells Alya about that one afternoon when Luka and she were all on their own, and when Luka suddenly cupped her cheek, smiling at her in the most beautiful way anyone had ever smiled at her. How soft his kisses had been, and how she had melted underneath them. A dreamy sigh leaving her lips as she tells Alya about it. It’s just how it should be. There’s no doubting, and no nervousness. Just the steady flow of something that is meant to be.

Alya grins from one ear to the other. “I’m so happy for you, girl. I really am.”

“Thank you,” Marinette mumbles, sinking into herself. “I’m also very happy.”

There, falling into place just like that. Just like it should be.

It’s odd.

That’s all. Odd. Because everything fell into place. Everything was calm, reassured. And then, just one day, Adrien seems to decide that he doesn’t like the silence.

Goddamn sunshine boy.

So, Alya watches. Narrowing her eyes whenever Adrien shoots a look over his shoulder during class – just where Marinette sits. And whenever Marinette notices, she gives Adrien a half-wave, a smile on her lips. And whenever that happens, Adrien clumsily waves back, turning red as he quickly whirls his head around again.

It’s completely, utterly odd.

And also something she really, really doesn’t like.

So of course she has no choice but to confront him.

When classes end, Alya is the first one at his desk, slamming her hand down onto it. Adrien is bent over his bag, flinching so violently that he almost bangs his head against the desk’s surface. Then he stares up at her. “Um, hi?”

“Hi.” Alya smiles sweetly. “How are you doing, sunshine?”

“I’m great, thank you?” He almost looks caught, even though Alya has no idea what she should have caught him doing anyway.

“Lovely to hear. How is your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend,” Adrien repeats as if having to remind himself of the fact that he even has one. It makes Alya grit her teeth. “Good! She’s, uh, great.”

“Great! How about spending an afternoon with us? I haven’t seen Kagami for such a long time. Wondering how she is doing.”

“I can – I can text her. Sure.” Nodding a few times too many, Adrien pulls his phone from his bag. Staring at it, brows knitted, he clears his throat. “So, who’ll be there?”

“Well, you know. Nino, Luka, Marinette, me.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She narrows her eyes further. That little tremor there. That little thing quivering in his voice. It makes her blood almost boil. It makes her want to scream in his face. Because if there is one thing she knows, then that girls never forget about their love. Because love taints hearts, stays there in darkened stains until the end of time itself.

Not like she knows herself. She has just seen it too often.

So Alya keeps watching. As Kagami and Adrien share one of André’s ice creams. As Luka and Marinette do the same. She watches intently from the bridge, the Seine flowing along underneath her. A steady stream knowing its path, never once deviating. She watches so hard her eyes start to water.

Because just weeks ago, Adrien’s smiles were bright and full of light as he smiled at Kagami – and now, they are stale, breaking at their seams.

Because just weeks ago, not even the sound of Marinette’s clear laugh could have made him turn his head – and know, every tiniest whisper coming from her does.

Because Kagami looks away from time to time, her chest heaving with a shuttering breath.

Because Adrien tries his best to only sneak glances at Marinette every now and then, just a flicker, just a little something, and fails at subtlety altogether.

Because Luka and Marinette don’t notice anything else than themselves in their tiny little world, which is sweet, so sweet, and yet –

It’s all breaking apart.

Alya thinks. Crumbles fall through her fingers. She thinks harder. Before her brain can give up on her, Nino’s hand is on hers, that one constant that will never leave her in loneliness. “What’s making you frown like that?”

“Did you …” She looks at the couples next to the Seine. Then at her boyfriend again. “Is there something weird about Adrien lately?”

Nino contemplates, wrinkling his forehead. “Can’t say there isn’t. But can’t put my finger on it either. He’s a bit jumpy, maybe?”

“Always? Or only when – only under special conditions?”

“Dunno. Didn’t pay it much attention. I could watch out for ya?”

She shrugs. Glances at Adrien again. “You don’t have to.”

So when it’s late evening already, when the sun is about to set, Alya makes sure to stay behind the others with Kagami, sending Nino to occupy Adrien. It works as they start an agitated discussion about homework. Still, she has to clear her throat twice as Kagami is sending her weird looks, and when she finally manages to speak, she feels strangely nervous.

“So, really weird question, but is everything all right with Adrien?”

Kagami looks at her from the corners of her eyes. Alya can feel it, the tension rising in her chest, but she doesn’t move. Not until Kagami answers.

“He is distracted during fencing lessons. He is distracted during our meetings. He doesn’t look at me the same way he used to. He doesn’t text me as often as he used to.”

Alya doesn’t know what to say.

“All in all, no. I don’t think everything is all right with Adrien.”

“Maybe something happened?” Alya muses.

But Kagami is different from Marinette. Kagami doesn’t close her eyes from her truth. She runs into fire with open arms, ready to feel the pain, hoping she won’t die among consuming flames.

“You must be glad.”

“Huh?”

“That Adrien seems to have changed targets.”

Again, Alya doesn’t know what to say. For a long moment, she searches for words, finally finding them on the tip of her tongue, bitterly sticking to it. “Marinette is happy with Luka.”

“Adrien is unhappy with me.”

“But – why?” Alya clears her throat. “I mean, of course you don’t have to tell me, but …”

“I wish I knew.”

Alya wishes she knew, too.

“So, what now?” she mumbles.

“Yeah. What now.” Kagami doesn’t continue.

She doesn’t have to.

And the news doesn’t even need a day to be known all over school. With the dark rings underneath Adrien’s eyes, with the way every single one of his smiles seems weak and tired, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. Alya watches as she always does. She watches Marinette’s unsure looks. She watches Adrien’s twitchiness. She watches, and this time, she doesn’t slam her hand against the desk after classes end. She simply puts a hand on Adrien’s shoulder instead.

“I’m sorry, Adrien.”

He snorts, doesn’t look at her. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

She stays silent for a long moment. Marinette has already left the classroom. She did ask Adrien how he is doing, of course she did, but that was the end of the story. Because she has a boyfriend waiting for her, having adored her from the first moment onwards. Who has never once caused her to doubt herself. So Alya lets her hand slide from Adrien’s shoulder again, waiting until he stands up.

“I can’t let it happen.”

Adrien doesn’t even seem to have it in him to react with surprise. Instead, he tries to smile, a sad tiny parody of the real thing. “I know.”

“I will destroy you if you try anything. And I mean it.”

“I know.”

“She’s happy.”

“I know.”

“And you can’t –”

“Believe me,” he tells her one last time, voice sober and final, “I know.”

Piece by piece, it breaks apart. Alya can’t let it end. Not the last little haven she saw grow with her own two eyes. But as Adrien leaves the classroom, she begins to wonder, and wonder, and wonder.

In the end, it doesn’t help.

Nothing should change. Marinette should be happy. She shouldn’t radiate the same doubts Adrien did. And when Alya finds that she does, something builds in her chest, a heavy dragging feeling, and nothing feels right anymore.

She watches from the distance, waiting for her caramel latte. How Marinette glances at her phone more often than she usually does, how her smiles seem only half-hearted whenever Luka talks to her. They hold hands, and yet Marinette seems to lean away just a tiny bit.

Alya saw it before.

She saw it in Adrien’s touches that suddenly didn’t linger anymore. She saw it in the heaviness glimmering in Kagami’s eyes. She saw it, and she couldn’t do anything.

It’s not her place, Alya reminds herself. Again, she is only watching from the sidelines as a girl in love balances on the edge of the cliff. Again, she is only watching as blindness makes every step more dangerous than the last. And damn it –

A hand on hers. Nino smiles down at her, this careful little smile that is only reserved for her. “You okay? Been staring at them like crazy.”

Alya squeezes his hand. “I’m getting a bad feeling.”

“About Luka?”

“About Marinette.”

“Well. You know.” Nino shrugs. “Thing is, she’s gotta make her own decisions. Can’t save her from everything.”

“I know.”

Still, it hurts.

It hurts to see Marinette retract her hand from Luka’s. It hurts to see the understanding in his eyes. It hurts so much that she waits for a moment to be alone with him as Marinette and Nino talk about video games, and she pulls him to the side, only inconspicuously, only without visible reason. When she is sure the other two are out of earshot, she has to lift her chin to look up at Luka.

“You’re giving up.”

Luka is always calm, always collected, but in this moment, his smile cracks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cut it out. You’re giving up.”

He drops all amusement from his face. Takes two steps to the left. Kicks pebbles around. The cup in his hands is already empty, but he didn’t throw it away. A warm, sunny day. When he looks up to the sky, the pain almost vanishes from his eyes. “Some people are not meant to be.”

“That’s stupid,” Alya snorts as she stares down at her caramel latte. “That’s some stupid excuse.”

“Do you think you and Nino were meant to be?”

“No.”

“Okay. Harsh.”

“I’m just realistic. I don’t believe in fairytale crap. I believe in hard work.”

“Then why are you together?”

“Because we made it work.”

Luka nods, slowly, carefully. “How much work do you have to put into a girl that can’t love you back?”

Endlessly much, Alya wants to say. So much it breaks you. So much that it might look easy from the outside, but the real rotten core lies inside, invisible to even the most watchful eye. She wants to be ashamed, but she isn’t, and she looks up at the blue sky too.

Girls in love really are blind, and they really are stupid. Alya hopes she will never end up like them.

“I don’t get it. Does she need the drama?” she thinks out loud.

“Can’t tell the heart what it wants.”

“You’re taking this all so casually. As if this is nothing to you.”

“It’s everything to me.”

“Then fight, god damn it!”

Luka looks at her then, ocean blue filled with unspeakable little things. “I already did.”

Things should be easy. Just like they were with Nino and her – making it work, day after day. Sometimes, big feelings and fireworks aren’t enough. Sometimes they are anything but right. Just cute daydreams and unrealistic expectations, and those are never enough.

It’s almost infuriating how Marinette shies away from Luka’s touches. It’s insulting how she avoids his eyes. It’s agitating how she never sends him just one genuine smile. It makes Alya so angry she digs her nails into her own palms.

But if Alya is one thing, then a good friend.

And if there’s one thing she can’t do, then make decisions for Marinette.

So she isn’t surprised when Marinette calls her two evenings afterwards, crying as she tells her what happened. Of course they broke up. Of course they did. Why? She can’t say. Why. Because of someone else?

She doesn’t think so.

She doesn’t _think_ so, and Alya could scream, because she doesn’t _think_ so – it tells her more than enough, and she keeps thinking to herself just what that rich pretty boy has when he can’t even give Marinette the most basic thing – just a hint of _something more_.

She is inclined to call Adrien, but doesn’t do so.

She is inclined to strangle Adrien, she strongly considers it, but doesn’t do so either.

Instead, she listens to Marinette’s sobs the whole evening as Nino sits next to her, hand in hers, and with a sigh, she leans her head against his shoulder, phone pressed to her ear. Nino rubs her shoulder through the call, and when it ends, she sits in silence.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks the darkness.

“Sure thing.”

“Do you think we’re meant to be?”

“Woah. Never thought you’d ask something like that.”

“What? Why?”

“’Cause one thing I really admire about you? You never take things for granted. And you always work hard for them.” Nino grins at her. “Honored to be your personal project, then.”

Alya smiles at him, wishing she could show Marinette what it means to put you all into something, and what it means to realize all your effort is better put elsewhere. But again, she can only make decisions for herself, and she keeps smiling as Nino presses a kiss to her lips.

It needs two days for Marinette to turn up at school again.

It needs four more days for her to not constantly look like a puppy drenched in rain.

It needs six more days until Alya finally notices it.

Marinette and Adrien are able to uphold a normal, polite conversation. It’s a sight worthy of being recorded in history books. A magical, unbelievable moment. It’s so weird that her jaw almost drops. Because it’s Marinette who comes up to Adrien’s desk, and it’s her who isn’t fumbling for words as she looks at him.

“Doing all right, Adrien?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah.” He decidedly doesn’t look at her. “Are you, uh, you, yourself?”

“I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“Just having some trouble with French homework.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, who doesn’t. I don’t. Not that I want to boast – no, I wasn’t trying to – I could help you?” Still not looking at her, Adrien ducks his head.

This is bizarre, Alya thinks. Absolutely bizarre.

“I think,” Marinette replies, something about her tone careful and hesitant, “I’ll try on my own. Thanks.”

“Yeah! Yeah. Totally understandable.”

It’s awkward. But a whole other level of awkward. Because Marinette doesn’t look like she is fainting – she looks like she has to deal with a toddler, unable to understand the most basic questions. And Adrien doesn’t react with clueless friendliness – he twiddles his thumb as his eyes dart around everywhere.

Something shifted so violently that the whole universe is falling apart.

And Alya will be damned if she doesn’t try to understand just _what_ triggered it.

So after school, she wraps an arm around Marinette’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “Okay, girl. Spill.”

“Spill?” Marinette repeats, high-pitched voice ringing in Alya’s ears. “Spill what?”

“What’s going on with Adrien, maybe?”

“Going on? Nothing?”

“Nothing, huh.” Alya furrows her brows. “Trying to play me, are you?”

Marinette’s cheeks turn red as she tries to escape Alya’s grasp. “No? I’m being truthful.”

“So,” Alya drawls, the last explanation that could maybe come to mind, “you don’t have a renewed crush on our sunshine boy.”

At that, Marinette’s head shoots up, her expression covered by genuine shock, her lips twitching, her eyebrows raised, everything about her screaming how _wrong_ that suggestion sounds even only in her head – and that would almost be funny if it wasn’t so goddamn confusing.

And behind them, Adrien walks up, hand already raised in a wave and just about to open his mouth when Marinette’s loud voice beats him to it.

“Absolutely not! Oh god, no! Adrien is only a good friend. You were right from the start – we’re so much better as friends. I can finally talk normally to him, Alya! I can look him in the eye without wishing he’d carry me off into the sunset right then and there. That’s progress! He’s a good friend, and nothing will – he’s standing right behind me, isn’t he.”

Alya keeps gesturing frantically, hands wildly flailing around as she grabs Marinette’s wrist and drags her away from the stairs. “Oh, yeah, good friends! Like you always were! Like you always told me! I remember!”

Marinette’s face is carefully blank as she lets herself be pushed on and on. And behind them, Adrien is still frozen in the same position as before, his hand raised, staring at the spot Marinette previously occupied. His face is chalk-white, and his mouth stands open, and he doesn’t move a muscle. Alya is almost afraid he went into absolute standby mode for the rest of his remaining days.

This – all of this is just wrong, she keeps thinking to herself.

She is absolutely sure Marinette is lying. She is so sure, even as they arrive at Marinette’s room, even as Marinette lets herself sink into her chaise, face buried in her hands. Even as Alya glances at the wall – and finds no photo of Adrien hanging there. None at all. The whole impressive collection, gone.

Something in her stomach stirs.

She just doesn’t _understand_ , and it’s driving her crazy.

“I’m still dying,” she mutters. “Oh god, and now he’s so going to want to talk about it! Or – or he’s going to think – Alya!”

“You were serious?” asks Alya carefully. “No crush on Adrien anymore?”

“I told you!”

“But – why?”

“Why?” Marinette blurts. “Why? Do you _want_ me to have a crush on him?”

“Of course not!”

Of course not.

Because, god, after years of watching her stumble and fall, never getting it quite right, it’s finally calming down. It’s getting quiet. On one end of the equation, that is. And that’s just it – it just still isn’t. Completely. Right. The scale is still tipped. There’s still that gnawing feeling in Alya’s stomach.

She knows not everything has been said. She knows it’s far from over.

So she isn’t surprised in the least when Adrien walks up to Marinette just the next day. Alya carefully pretends to be staring at her history book, even though she can watch Adrien from the corner of her eyes. As he props an arm on the desk right in front of Marinette, leaning into her personal space like some oblivious idiot. As she backs away just lightly at the sudden intrusion, face a careful mask when Alya knows too well that panic is seething behind it.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” He clears his throat, cheeks going deeply red. “I mean, Marinette. Because that’s your name. Marinette. A beautiful girl for a beautiful name. No, the other way around. Wait, no, that works too.”

Alya resists the temptation to slam her head against the desk.

“Adrien,” Marinette drawls. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Are you –”

“Hi. I mean, yes. I mean, good, and you?”

There. And the temptation returns in full force.

“I’m going to …” Voice blank, Marinette points at something next to Adrien, already half standing up. He seems to get the cue too late, his hand slipping from the desk before he can hardly catch himself from slamming his head right against the surface. He ends up in an uncomfortable-looking position, elbow propped on the desk as he tries for an easygoing smile and arrives at a grimace of suppressed pain. Finger-gunning her, he slides to the side until he made way for her.

“Anything for a pretty girl like yourself,” Adrien adds to his elegant posture.

“Thanks,” Marinette says slowly, “for being polite enough to let me go to the toilet. That’s really remarkable.”

Adrien laughs too loudly, too wildly. “Yep, that’s me! Totally remarkable.”

Marinette looks at him for additional two seconds, her whole body language screaming that the only thing she wants to do is get away from him. Then she hastily leaves Adrien standing, and bit by bit, he sinks into himself, stiff grin falling to make place for absolute desperation. Eyes going back to her history book, Alya gives a sigh.

“Wow. That was bad,” she says loudly. “Like, really.”

“Don’t,” Adrien groans.

“For a model, nonetheless. Embarrassing would be an understatement.”

Another groan.

“Sorry, sunshine. Think the horse is already out the barn. Just going to tell you straight up, you missed your chance.”

At that, Adrien whirls his head around sharply. And Alya almost flinches back at the sudden intensity in his eyes.

“So the cat _was_ in the barn before,” he notes. “I mean, horse. The horse.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what you implied.”

“Adrien –”

“Was it my fault?”

He seems almost desperate, and Alya knits her brows. She just can’t – it’s so weird. So entirely weird. “What do you think? Of course it was.”

Somehow, it falls into place. Somehow, Adrien’s expression crumbles into blankness, not letting her see just one thought that must be popping into his head. Somehow, piece after piece starts to fit, even if Alya just can’t. Understand. _Why_.

“I see,” he mumbles as he turns back to his seat.

Does he now, she asks herself as she looks at her history book again.

And she just doesn’t know whether this is good or not.

It’s an accident, really. Nothing more than that. Alya forgot her jacket in the changing room, and even if the equipment rooms are usually locked in the afternoon, the gym itself isn’t, so she plans to quickly slip in before a teacher catches her. The gym should be empty, but as Alya opens the door, she hears the sound of steps, the noise of metal meeting metal in fierce hits.

Something in Alya moves her to stay undetected, to keep hiding carefully in the shadows as she peeks inside. It’s not hard to recognize Adrien’s hair, sunlight weaving through it. It’s not hard to recognize Marinette’s face, a slight shimmer of amusement forming even as sweat drops down her forehead. Both of them wearing their PE clothes.

But it’s hard to acknowledge what is going on, nonetheless.

“So, already wishing I’d carry you off into the sunset?” Adrien taunts her as he lifts the short pole in his hands again. A baton, maybe? That’s weird, Alya thinks. Everything about this is. Marinette and she said their goodbyes after school, so it doesn’t make sense for her to still be here. And while she knows Adrien’s hobby is fencing, she didn’t know that some metallic pole could serve as a substitute for an actual – what is it called? Weird fencing sword.

And also, she never knew that Marinette could strike with such speed, with such ferocity that even Adrien seems to quiver under the attack, metal screeching as it slides off each other.

“Don’t get your whiskers in a tremble, or you’ll lose,” she returns, breaths hard, but a buzz of excitement ringing through it as she ducks under Adrien’s counterattack. Alya almost wants to jump out of her hiding space, telling them what kind of idiots they gotta be to do something that stupid. Practicing what, their deadly blows with metal sticks? And knocking each other’s teeth out on accident while they’re at it, knowing both Marinette’s clumsiness and Adrien’s behavior as of late?

Except that in this moment, focused on her target alone, Marinette has never looked more capable of anything, and Adrien radiates a confidence that makes even Alya’s heart flutter.

“My whiskers are always trembling in your proximity, pretty girl,” he returns, a smirk on his lips that just won’t fit Adrien’s usual expressions.

“Wow. You’re really something else.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

But Alya is transfixed. Entirely swept away. Because as they are exchanging silly quips, their fight goes on. She saw Adrien and Kagami practicing together before – like two soldiers meeting each other, equal strength and equal respect. It was fascinating to watch, really, chemistry sparking every time their swords met.

But this?

A dance. Alya can only describe it as a dance, one that takes her breath away. With how they move in the same pace, step back and step forward, circling and prowling, jumping and waiting. With how their eyes sparkle, anticipating the other’s actions, reacting as if connected in mind. Partners in soundless music. Their weapons never hitting anything else than their chosen targets, and when they do, being set on the right path again by the other right away with only a nudge.

If Adrien and Kagami were a storm, and Marinette and Luka were a quiet summer night, those two in front of her are a harmonious ballad, echoing from the walls and resting in quivering melodies.

“I thought you wanted to practice,” Marinette tells him, ducking and circling him. “Not flirt awkwardly.”

“I never flirt _awkwardly_.”

“Ah, yeah. What did you call me? A beautiful girl for a beautiful name. Flattering.”

Her words make him falter. Alya’s heart jumps. She didn’t even realize she was nervously tapping her finger against the back of her hand until she sees the ounce of bashfulness lingering in Adrien’s expression, and it’s an opening Marinette seemed to wait for.

The music stops the moment Adrien’s weapon clatters to the floor, uselessly rolling for centimeters until it comes to a halt. The dance ends the moment Adrien stumbles backwards, only being held up by Marinette grabbing his arm. The momentum causes her to lose her balance, and Adrien draws her in right away, bringing them both to a standstill again.

They hold onto each other. Their eyes lock. Alya is holding her breath, suddenly feeling incredibly intrusive as she watches their chests heave, as she notices the little tremble going through Adrien’s body, his grip tightening on Marinette’s arm.

“You’re avoiding me,” Adrien remarks, face breaking into worry, his words crumbling like a plea. “Ever since – after I overheard – you’re avoiding me.”

For a long moment, Marinette stays silent, staring down at the pole in her hands. She doesn’t let go of him. “I’m not. I’m here, right? To practice.”

“It was an excuse to talk to you.”

“I kind of guessed so,” she says, leaning away slightly as if hit by his bluntness too harshly.

“So –”

“Look. What is there to talk about?” Finally, she yanks her arm away, moving to pick up his weapon. Alya has to swallow down the words on her tongue. Of course there is way too much to talk about. She suddenly feels overwhelmed by the way Adrien rakes a hand through his hair as he watches Marinette, how his Adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t go on.

 _Say something_ , she wants to scream. _God damn it, sunshine, just_ say _something!_

But Marinette beats him to it.

“It’s just … You were right, okay? We’re good friends. It’s great! What we have is great.”

Alya always wanted her to say those words. But not like this. Not when Adrien stares at her with a desperation that has Alya shaking. Marinette’s back is turned to her, so she can’t see the expression on her face. But her voice says enough for Alya to clench her hands to fists.

Adrien’s shoulders seem to droop. _Don’t you dare give up now_ , Alya wants to bark at him. She pierces him with stares, hoping her furious thoughts can somehow reach him telepathically, and it takes seconds upon seconds until he finally reacts.

“Let’s try again.”

Marinette looks at him in question.

“Another match.” He grabs one of the poles in her hands, pulling it from her fingers. “If I win, you go out with me.”

Alya’s heart sinks to her stomach, only to double up in speed a second later.

“What?” Marinette bursts out. “Go –”

“Yes. Go out with me.”

“Adrien –”

“Don’t tell me someone is being a scaredy-cat?” Despite his joking tone, the tension in his jaw is obvious. “Intimidated by my skills?”

“I won right now,” she reminds him grittily, still getting into a fighting stance.

“Streak of luck.”

“Doesn’t end just like that.”

“We’ll see.” And with that, Adrien attacks.

Maybe Alya should go. Maybe she shouldn’t watch them like she does. But it’s almost impossible to look away. If their battle from before was a dance, this right here is a studied performance, perfect in its execution. This time, no words fall between them. There’s something almost bitter to the way they swing their weapons, to how concentrated Adrien looks.

He’s in it with his all.

A man in love who knows no limits, giving nothing short of his everything.

The sound of their ragged breaths mixes with the noise of metal meeting again, again, Marinette’s brows furrowed and her eyes set ablaze. Alya doesn’t even know who to root for. She doesn’t know if that matters anyway.

And then, the music teeters.

Something seems off in their rhythm. Not because they don’t work together. But because for whatever reason, there’s a change. Alya wouldn’t have thought anything of it if she didn’t know better. Because this time, it’s Marinette who falters, just one second too late, just one tiny movement that could have been an accidental one if Alya hadn’t seen that tiny glimmer on Marinette’s face, and her weapon is whacked out of her hand, flying through the air before it clatters to the floor.

Adrien goes still right away, own weapon raised as he looks after the metallic pole. Alya’s heart is wildly pounding in her chest as she watches Marinette’s expression, the hesitant hint of _something_ right in her eyes. It takes a few moments until Adrien turns back to her, breaths hard and shock written all over his face.

“I won,” he remarks.

“Guess you have more practice with the baton than I do after all,” she replies, voice clipped.

He swallows. And it all falls into place. So easily. Slips in like it belonged there from the start. Sits in the way Adrien looks at her, all wonder and awe. Waits in the way he lets his pole drop before stepping closer to Marinette. She is looking at him, and the moment makes Alya’s own hands shake with anticipation. It all makes sense. Suddenly, every tiny moment, every tiny shimmer, every tiny hint of just something – it all makes so much sense that Alya bites her lip.

“So,” he says so quietly Alya almost doesn’t catch it. “You will …”

“I don’t get it, okay?” Marinette interrupts him. There’s a desperation to her that Alya is unfamiliar with. Not helpless, not unsure – but fierce and piercing. “I don’t get why you are still flirting with me. I don’t get why you want to go out with me. I’m not – I’m still only me. Clumsy me who gets embarrassed too easily, and who fails at so many things, and you never – and now, suddenly all your feelings change, just like that? Just because you found out – I can’t –”

“They never changed,” Adrien replies, grabbing her arms. His voice softens. “My feelings never changed.”

“I’m only a _friend_. And maybe it’s better this way.”

His grip tightens. Alya only gets half of what they are talking about, the other half going straight over her head. But nonetheless, it seems to be something important. That one thing that made everything crumble and rise from its ashes anew.

“Do you think it’s better that way?” Adrien asks, eyes searching Marinette’s, a careful shimmer, a soft push, and she stares at him, stares and stares.

She doesn’t answer.

“Because,” he goes on, “maybe I was blinded by my feelings so much that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.”

Idiot, Alya thinks to herself. That stupid, stupid idiot. She thinks back to every tiny chance he had to see Marinette. To _see_ her. Just what possessed him not to? Just why couldn’t he look at her like that from the start, his voice alone proof how much he adores her?

It would have made everything so much easier. _Everything._

“I wish you would have,” Marinette says, averting her gaze.

“Me too.”

And her too.

But god damn it. Just kiss her already, Alya wants to scream. Just show her! Less silly words, and more actions. Less empty phrases, and more _showing her_. Marinette deserves it. After so long, after being confused and confused, she does.

And that’s just it. It should have fallen into place so easily. It could have. Seeing them like this, Alya suddenly realizes that it could have.

It clicks, makes sense. It’s – it feels _right_.

“If I told you I need to kiss you right now,” he goes on, “would you say I shouldn’t?”

Alya’s whole body jolts, and everything inside her melts in the warmth of Adrien’s voice, in the tickling feeling his words cause. She has no idea how Marinette can stand there, unmoving, her cheeks turning red, her eyes moving back to his. Not a nod, not a shake of a head. Not a flinch as a shaky hand comes up to her cheek, cupping it in its palm.

Alya can’t breathe properly. It’s a moment reserved for only those two, and she feels like she should go, and still –

Watching Adrien lean down, watching his lips touch Marinette’s is nothing short of unreal, a moment so breathtaking Alya can’t move. Like watching stars grow and explode. Like witnessing a pureness she has never lied eyes upon before. They kiss with a hesitation, with a carefulness that make Alya blush, seconds upon seconds until Adrien leans back again, blinking himself awake from a beautiful dream.

He whispers something, and Marinette stares at him, and she goes on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in until their lips meet for a second time, softly and tentatively. Melting into one as hands hold on and bodies collide, just as if they always belonged together.

Something was missing all the time, and finally Alya is sure she has found it. Even if it remains unnamed.

Maybe Alya was even blinder than a girl in love, she thinks.

She leaves, her jacket forgotten.

The next day, Alya plasters on a sweet smile, sits down next to Marinette, and props her cheek on her hand, making sure that no one but Mariette and Adrien can hear her.

“Didn’t know you could handle Adrien’s pole that well, girl. I’m freaking impressed.”

While Adrien begins coughing wildly in front of them, Marinette flinches so violently that she almost knocks her book off her desk. Several pairs of eyes slowly turn to them as Marinette wildly starts stuttering unintelligible syllables.

Alya keeps smiling.

And there, just like that. It all fell into place.


End file.
